


Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

by curiumKingyo



Series: Connor's Guide to the Love and Care of Hank Anderson [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom!Hank, Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top!Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 16:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15800727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: “I think your new hardware doesn’t shut down when you go into this garden of yours,” Hank says, stilted, and a pop-up in the corner of Connor’s vision informs him that Hank’s heartbeat has increased drastically in a very short amount of time. “The other day I woke up in the middle of the night to take a piss and when I returned to the bed you were pitching quite the tent. I thought you might have been having a wet dream or something like this.”





	Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

“Connor, do you dream?”

Hank’s question catches Connor a bit by surprise and the android shifts a little on the bed to better look at him.

“You told me you sometimes enter some standby mode or something,” Hank continues, “and it is similar to sleep for humans. When you’re in this state, do you dream?”

“Well, in my original programming there was a safe place called ‘Zen Garden’ where I could report to CyberLife and receive orders and advice,” Connor tells him, LED spinning yellow at the painful memories of Amanda trying to control him. “After my deviating I repurposed it and when I go into stasis my mind goes there while the automatic diagnostics and repairing functions work.”

Hank hums, eyebrows furrowing a little. “So, is it like dreaming?”

“A little,” Connor shrugs. “As close to dreaming as I can, I suppose. It is a place for my mind to rest while my body fixes itself and sorts the information and memories of the day.”

“And do you, I don’t know, see things there? Like, have you ever dreamed of flying, or being naked, or losing your teeth?”

Connor blinks a few times, his LED spins as he searches the internet for some information Hank’s explanation seems to be lacking. Hank waits the few seconds it takes for the circle to stop spinning so fast and Connor’s expression turns soft and calm once more.

“I believe my Zen Garden more closely resembles a state of lucid dreaming,” he says. “I have full control of what goes on there, whereas a common dream is out of the dreamer’s control.”

Hank nods, thoughtful, and shifts closer to Connor. Their legs tangle and Connor rests his head on Hank’s shoulder hiding his LED since he knows Hank is sensitive to lights when he’s sleeping. A moment of silence passes by and Connor feels that Hank is somewhat tense, as if holding back on some question or comment.

Connor sits up and tenderly runs his fingers on Hank’s cheek, feeling the stubble in need of shaving there. Hank looks up at him, a little smile curling his lips. Connor leans down to kiss him and Hank sighs, knowing that Connor is doing this to give him time to gather the courage to continue speaking.

“I think your new hardware doesn’t shut down when you go into this garden of yours,” Hank says, stilted, and a pop-up in the corner of Connor’s vision informs him that Hank’s heartbeat has increased drastically in a very short amount of time. “The other day I woke up in the middle of the night to take a piss and when I returned to the bed you were pitching quite the tent. I thought you might have been having a wet dream or something like this.”

Connor blinks slowly, accessing the memory files of the secondary systems that record his surroundings during stasis. It is not hard to find the night Hank is talking about. Connor only goes into full stasis twice a month, he doesn’t have a lot of data to comb through.

He closes his eyes and his software quickly runs a simulation of the night for him. Hank pressed against him, soft and warm, his hair and skin and the threadbare fabric of his sleeping shorts registering as pleasant tactile input even when Connor’s mind was away in the Garden. Hank shifts and twists a lot in his sleep, so he keeps hugging and pressing and snuggling Connor all night long until he stands up and leaves, supposedly to go to the bathroom.

Connor sees that, when Hank returns, he stops on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on Connor’s form. In fact, his newly installed cock is fully erect in his sleep. Surely a result of Hank squirming and grabbing him through the night. Hank’s hand almost touches him in his reconstruction, but he recoils before making contact. He stands up again and the audio file tells Connor that he had gone to the bathroom, the sound of his bare feet on the linoleum followed by the meaty, slick sound of him masturbating. In the present time, Connor moans and opens his eyes, LED spurning yellow as his cooling system kicks in.

“You were excited about me being hard that night,” Connor says, blunt but not unkind as usual. Hank’s face burns and he tries to hide from Connor’s gaze but the android quickly holds his chin and makes him look up.

Connor’s internal fans are whirring so fast they produce a droning sound that is closely matched by Hank’s heavy breathing. The pop-up persists on Connor’s vision, Hank’s blood pressure is high, he is perspiring a lot more than necessary for the mild temperature, his pupils are dilated. His cheeks are beautifully tinted pink, but this is Connor’s own personal analysis and not his software speaking.

“You didn’t touch me that night,” Connor says, pausing between words because he knows that if he doesn’t phrase it right he might scare Hank off. “I… I would like it if you didn’t stop next time.”

Hank closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he feels his whole body shaking as if Connor’s words were a physical attack. He chews on his lip for a moment as he fights to regain control of his voice.

“Are you sure?” He opens his eyes and Connor finds them already a little glazed over. Beautiful.

“Absolutely sure,” Connor says, tilting his head and exposing his peacefully spinning blue LED. “I love to share my pleasure with you but the idea of you taking it from me while I can’t react is… appealing. Being a deviant puts me in control of my every move and thought, it pleases me the prospect of relinquishing some of this control to you.”

Hank pinches his nose with a shaky hand.

“Damn Con, you can’t say shit like this with such an earnest face.”

“But it is true,” Connor insists and takes Hank’s hand in his own, squeezing it gently. “I don’t want to force you into anything but, I would really like it if you had sex with me while I’m in stasis.”

Hank squeezes Connor’s hand but his expression doesn’t ease, the wrinkles between his eyebrows still deep. Connor’s LED blinks red, then yellow as he has an idea to persuade him.

“My secondary system runs a surveillance protocol when I’m in stasis,” he says, carefully. “In the morning I’ll be able to see and feel everything you’ve done to me. I assure you I’ll take as much enjoyment and pleasure out of this as you.”

Hank groans and this time he manages to roll around and bury his face in the pillow. He mumbles some complaint about shameless droids that Connor’s audio receptors can’t quite pick but he tugs Connor down anyway. Connor smiles as he lays down behind Hank and turns the lights off with a direct command.

“Good night, Hank,” he says, still smiling, as he plants a kiss to the exposed back of Hank’s neck.

“G’night,” Hank turns his head only enough to speak but Connor detects the heat still lingering on his cheeks.

 

**

 

Hank doesn’t think about their conversation for some time. Twelve days, four hours and thirty-seven minutes to be precise. Also known as the exact amount of time between Connor’s request and the next time he gets hard while in stasis. And, for as much as he has done his best to ignore it, Hank can’t stop thinking about it the very second he wakes up and finds Connor’s shorts stretched thin over his cock.

His mouth waters at the sight and his own cock twitches painfully. Connor looks completely at peace while sleeping, his body is slack and his LED is spinning fast but still blue. He sleeps on his back but his posture is not stiff or artificial, quite opposite, he looks perfectly human at that moment, the erection between his legs only adding to the impression.

Hank replays their conversation on his head. Connor had been very clear about his desire, going so far as to give him a quite plausible explanation for it. He looks down at his own cock and clicks his tongue in annoyance. As if he needed all of Connor’s reasoning to want to do this.

In all aspects of their relationship, Hank tries his best to make Connor feel like an equal. Before he deviated Connor was always reassuring Hank that he was just a machine and, for a while, he believed it. Now he sees that Connor’s deviation was a long process and he has realized that he had stopped treating him as a simples object way before Connor started doing it himself. Now that Connor is completely free and autonomous Hank is extra careful to ensure he feels like it. He can’t stand the thought of making Connor feel anything less than equal to him, in agency and importance and value.

However, between Connor’s incisive permission, borderline invitation to use him, and his own raging desire, Hank figures he never had a chance of not going through with this.

He turns around to fish the bottle of lube from the nightstand and slides his own shorts down and off. Carefully he shifts on the bed, places one knee on each side of Connor’s sleeping form. He doesn’t know how the surveillance system works but he wants to put on a good show anyway. It is the least he can do.

The cap of the bottle pops open, the sound very loud in the otherwise silent night. He drizzles some of the product on his fingers and spreads his legs a little further apart. His clean hand grabs onto his own chest, squeezing the fat and thick tit, dark pink nipple peeking between his finger. The other hand disappears behind him, fingers reaching between his cheeks.

Hank’s cock bobs slightly as he works his fingers in and out of his hole. The angle is less than optimal. In fact, it is terrible, he isn’t as limber as he once was and twisting his torso like that becomes uncomfortable after just a few moments. He considers waking Connor up, pleading him to finger him open and wet, and then go back to his stasis but he knows this is not what his lover wants. This is not what he wants if he is being truly honest.

Gritting his teeth he leans forward, one hand beside Connor’s head as he finds a better position to prep himself. He brings his hand down the front of his body and reaches between his legs. It is better and he continues to finger himself with renewed purpose. Connor’s face is so close he can count the perfectly crafted spots and beauty marks on his skin. Whoever designed his face sure had fun doing this.

Hank presses his face to the curve of Connor’s neck. It never fails to amaze him how soft his fake skin is, how it gets sore if Hank rubs his beard on it and how it raises in goosebumps when Connor is excited or scared. He inhales Connor’s scent and presses soft kisses to the underside of his jaw and the corner of his lips.

“I’ll make it good for you, babe,” he murmurs before standing back up on his knees.

Connor’s cock is still hard, and now Hank can see some of the lubricant is seeping through the front of his shorts. He smirks as he remembers the mishap of their first time using Connor’s cock. Since then they had learned how to measure and control the output of lube and cum.

Hank pulls Connor’s shorts down, his cock bobs slightly as the fabric is pulled away. It looks incredibly inviting. Hank scoots up, trembling in anticipation, and braces his knees wide beside Connor’s hips. He grabs Connor’s cock and lathers some leftover lube up and down his erection before holding it firmly upright.

He goes down slowly. His hole is wet with lube, pliant and loose but Connor’s girth is still something to be careful with. Connor had been very secretive about his choice, Hank doesn’t know exactly what attracted his attention to this model in particular but he loves it too much to question. The length is less than average but it is so deliciously thick that Hank’s breath is pushed out of him when he finally fully sits on the cradle of Connor’s pelvis.

A long moan escapes him, his thighs twitch and his cock spits some precum. Connor continues unmovable, undisturbed by the large man currently sitting on him. The thought makes Hank’s head spin a little and he curses under his breath. He moves his hips tentatively, a slow and deep grind that makes Connor’s cock press against his prostate.

Connor’s LED blinks, red for a split second, then blue once again, but he doesn’t move otherwise. Hank smirks, brings both hands to his chest to play with his nipples.

“Is this what you wanted, Con?” He asks, voice hoarse. He licks his dry lips and looks down at Connor’s peacefully asleep face. “You are so deep inside me now, stretching me, filling me. I wonder if you can feel it in your little mind garden.”

He grinds down once again, with more purpose now. He raises a little and drops back down, Connor’s cock rubbing and stretching him nicely. His breathing is shallow and fast, his chest expands and contracts forcefully as he kneads his tits and arches his back. Sweat starts to bead on his back and face, his legs tremble slightly but he refuses to stop or slow down.

His movements grow frantic and he moans loudly. Connor’s LED continues its peaceful spinning as if nothing is happening. Hank wonder how much noise and how much trashing he must do to wake his lover up. A lot, apparently.

He slumps forward, forehead resting on the hollow between Connor’s collarbones. He is breathing through his mouth now, his belly pressing his cock between his and Connor’s body. It is not enough friction to make him come but the pressure is welcome anyway. He ruts and grinds down, shivering all over as goosebumps break over his skin.

Orgasm approaches fast after this. He sneaks a hand between them and pumps his cock haphazardly, precum and sweat making his fingers glide smoothly over hot flesh. He arches his spine back one last time and sinks as far as possible onto Connor’s cock, a guttural moan leaves his lips as he comes.

His entire body shakes on the aftermatch, sweat glues his hair to his neck, come sticks to the soft hair on his belly and crotch. He takes deep, shaky breathes, and carefully stands on his knees, allowing Connor’s cock to slip free. Lube slicks down his thighs, he isn’t sure if Connor had come or not but his cock had certainly drooled some extra lubrication. He shivers at the feeling.

He leans over and kisses Connor’s lips and forehead softly. An almost painful tenderness makes him smile, heart thumping fast in his chest.

“I love you, Con,” he says, in a very soft voice, as if he is afraid the words will break some sort of spell binding them together.

He lays down, still sticky with cum and sweat and lube, but he can’t bring himself to care enough to go to the bathroom and clean up. If Connor was up he would volunteer to bring him a warm wet towel and clean him between his legs and playfully kiss his soft, spent cock. But Connor is still deep into his stasis mode, unavailable to the outside world for the next couple of hours or so.

Sleep comes easily after this. The soft buzzing of Connor’s biocomponents lull him into an easy slumber and he clings to his lover with a sated smile on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it, now all the bottom!Hank fics are together in a series! They can easily be read as stand-alones but reading all of them makes for a most rewarding experience ;)
> 
> Come hang with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/curiumkingyo) or [Tumblr](http://burn-gormans-eyelashes.tumblr.com) and if you are feeling generous, take a look at my [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/O5O8K6GJ#) too <3


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